My best friend and I have known each other for thirteen years. We’ve been everywhere from here to across the country together and only fought twice in our lives. She knows me better than my younger sister ever could and has been there for me when I needed her the most.
We never did fight over a guy when we were growing up. In fact those two instances we did quarrel was over something so arbitrary such as accidentally kicking the other person a leaving a bruise. I guess we never really fought over guys because deep down my best friend has always only loved one boy.
My best friend had met this boy before she met me. They hit it off instantly and agreed at five or six years of age that they were in a relationship.
At seven years of age, my then new best friend and her boyfriend laughed at the possibility of getting married.
He told her, “If you married me, you wouldn’t have to change your last name because it would remain the same anyways,” because they both had shared the same surname, but were fortunately not related to one another.
Over the years my best friend, and the boy she had told me she fell in love with, kissed and held hands on the playground. They were ridiculed by all of the kids in our school because he was too hyper and didn’t fit in with the cool kids.
He had given her his mother’s earrings and told my friend that he had loved her in front of the whole school. Embarrassed, and sort of flattered, my friend decided to break up with him in junior high. She wanted to fit in, and he was never going to.
Within months after the break up her first love left the school and moved with his family to the state of Oregon.
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